New skill for my resume

Gayle was engulfed in post-chemo blues. Worst of all, her back end screamed with the runny aftermath of the toxin’s effects on her guts.

I texted her my secret recipe for relief from bad butt day battles. The following day, her upbeat return text had her sitting in style, hailed me as ‘the butt whisperer.’

Home is where no heart is

Marion’s brother offered to move her back ‘home’. Confused and angry, she declined. Months later post-stroke, she said no words at all.

Her neighbor called Robert asking what to do next. Could he arrange care for her now?

“She said no in summer, so we won’t come again.”

And Marion’s niece hung up the phone.

An Abilfy blonde

Pam struggles with mood, so down now she'd forgotten her hair—it hangs lank and uncombed, framing a face slack with despair.

So maybe yes counseling but no energy to arrange, could something be added to her roster of drugs?

Next visit she arrives with a smile, hair washed and shining, a bright Abilify blonde!

Secret secretions

My patient sat down, quickly grabbed for a Kleenex.

"Hold on!" she gasped, turned, and then coughed wetly into the tissue.

"Oh gad," I thought unhappily, "She's going to show it to me."

"Don't worry," she said, dabbing delicately at her lips. "I'm not going to show it to you."

We both burst out laughing.